


Dance Recital

by eledhwenlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-16
Updated: 2005-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two cousins growing up together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Recital

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for bloodrebel333 on this request:  
>  _Red dangerous slashes on Bellatrix's arm, caused by her Mother when she was found eavesdropping. Tender fingers. Cousin!Love. Passion and friendship and fierceness. This is not a request for a story with hot porn, this is about two best friends who grew up together, for whom there is no grey, only Black and white, who felt and knew each other better than anyone else, and who will come to believe the other has betrayed him/her. Make it real._  
>  I'm not sure if this is what you wanted, but I tried my best. I generally don't write het, so I have no idea if it is any good.  
> Thanks and my eternal love go to shadowquill for the fast beta! If there are any mistakes left, I am to blame.

She tries not to wince when he touches her arm, leading her, swirling her around, always right on cue. She wonders if he'd even noticed, but then he usually does. Suppressing a sigh Bellatrix forces herself to listen to their teacher guiding them through the complicated dance steps. She has to be proper and good at all times, if she wants to or not. What happens, when she fails at it, makes itself known every time the soft fabric of her blouse brushes over the deep red welds on her arms.

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, or so they say. She wonders if they're right or if they simply never had to go to their limits.

***

"Bella? Could you spare me a moment?"

She stills at the stairs, turns around carefully and looks at her cousin. When she sees the expression on Sirius' face, she knows that he noticed. There is no way out of the conversation that is bound to follow. Sighing inwardly she gives up on making a swift and dignified exit.

"Yes, of course, I do, dear cousin. Shall we go to the library?"

Proper. That's what she's being. Proper and a coward in the face of the one who makes her feel like a person, the only soul on Earth she can be her true self with. She should've seen it coming, but still, it isn't a small surprise for her, when Sirius' face clouds and he almost storms up the stairs, dragging her with him, and then into his room. One day she must tell him that he should watch this frown for it makes him even more handsome and someday all the girls in London will be in love with him, not that he'll care about them as much as he does about the mysterious person at Hogwarts that has woven a spell around Sirius' heart that even she can't break. To prevent falling she nearly has to run and all pretence of propriety is forgotten as she stumbles after him.

The sound of the door closing sounds final and for a moment she wonders what's to come before she remembers: this is Sirius. Sweet, dear Sirius who's always protected her and who's never harmed her voluntarily. Not yet, that is.

"She did it again?"

Sweet, dear Sirius who's always trying to protect her, even when the both of them know that it's fruitless.

"She had good reason, too."

She doesn't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. She is driving him mad with her behaviour and even more so because she will listen to him, but won't stop. It's a vicious circle neither he nor she can break and sometimes she thinks that she doesn't want to break free of this because she doesn't know what freedom is - and a canary dies, if it is set free.

She feels him standing close by, watching her, and she considers turning around and leaving the room. It would be the best for both of them. When she feels his hand on her hip, slowly turning her around, she smiles. She made the right decision.

"Bella, it doesn't have to be like this."

His voice is a little bit needy, but also quiet and calm as she's never heard him speak lie before. She chalks it up to the other person's influence and wonders if she can break him a little bit, if she can't break him completely. She looks straight into his eyes and gets lost in those dark orbs that sometimes seem to be the only safe place for her.

"You can leave her, this home, and be your own person. You are old enough. You don't have to endure this, this barbarianism for every little mistake you make. You could live on your own and make your own rules."

She laughs and shakes her head. What a silly idea... These wounds have been caused by a civilisation unknown to most - that's why they're so hard to heal. It only takes her mother one word for those deep cuts to appear - and it is much cleaner than using a knife.

She cranes her head and smiles up at him. Sirius stares at her sadly and that expression is too much for her. It says too much without words and it touches her too deeply. She loves him for it - loves Sirius for being able to communicate with her so profoundly without uttering a syllable and yet she hates him for the same reason. There are many gullible people who are fooled by a smile and a beautiful face. Sirius always saw past those obvious features and sought for her true feelings. She couldn't even fool him, when they were still children. He'd always know when she was upset and try to comfort her. And he still does it, but now the comfort has changed its form. She decides that she doesn't really need that kind of comfort right now, but it will distract him from the real issue and that is a good enough purpose.

"Sirius... you know I can't."

She only says what they already know - it's better to walk worn and safe ways than to go off the road and wander into the unknown.

"This place is my home. My mother wouldn't let me leave, not without a husband. And she is right in punishing me - I was listening in on her talking to father about matters none of my own. These are the only rules I know - and the same goes for you."

Hurt appears in his eyes. The rift between them is almost palpable - it's been there for quite a while, but the both of them never paid attention until it was too broad to be crossed with a swift word and a wink of the eye. Someone is pulling Sirius away from her - and there's nothing she can do to prevent it. She tried, tried to keep him close, but the methods she chose drive him away even further. She wants to go back to being a child, to them being so close that nothing could tear them apart. But they're adults now - she's been one for quite a while and Sirius will soon be. He is more mature than most grown men she knows and she knows that she will miss his dry wit.

She reaches out to him, crossing the space between them, and he lets her. He doesn't push her away, hands timidly rising to rest on her hips. Smiling she takes his face in her hands and kisses him. At first he doesn't respond and she is left wondering how far he has gone with the other person, but the thought soon leaves her mind. She is good at waiting for her turn.

When he opens his lips to her, he admits defeat and she almost laughs. He is such an easy mark and she revels in the familiarity he presents to her. For once she doesn't have to think. They are dancing again, another, more sensual dance and this time nobody has to explain the steps to them. This dance is an invention of their own, it only belongs to them and no one can take it away. Hands move nimbly, mouths seek out sensitive places and they find their way through the room on instinct alone.

There is a strange feeling to Sirius' touches, though, as if he is holding back some part of himself. She shrugs it off - she will take care later of it. For now it is okay.

Slowly layer after layer of cloth is taken care of - some removed, some pushed aside for better access and soon she finds herself moaning with need. Somehow she's wearing less clothes than Sirius, who seems to put a lot of effort into making this a good experience for her. She smiles and cranes her head back, while he leaves a hot trail of wet kisses across her belly and chest. With him it always is. It can't be, because he is _Sirius Black_ and she is close now. Close to breaking and yet this is not everything she needs. She pushes herself fully onto the bed - although she isn't quite sure how she ended up there in the first place- and pulls Sirius on top of her.

There aren't many preparations to be taken - frankly she likes it better, when it hurts a little bit, but Sirius generally takes great care to prevent that. He doesn't understand how she can like it, when it leaves her bleeding and in pain, and she think he never will. There are days when she adores him for it, but on other days (not the bad ones, so she tells herself) she wants to scream at him that this is the way of the real world and that he can't protect her forever. In the end he is always too precious to her to push him away like that and so she lets him protect her, even when she neither needs nor wants it.

When he fills her, she feels complete for a moment. It is an exquisite pleasure, one that she never grows tired of, but it seems her partner of choice has lost his enthusiasm. He does not leave her wanting, but there's a change she can't quite pinpoint and in the end it's probably because of the mysterious person again. A place inside her aches, contrasting with the waves of pleasure rolling through her body. Suddenly she feels like a chapter has ended. Sirius and she aren't what they used to be.

They go through the motions, but something is lacking, off-key, and she can't make it right. Spent they lie side by side, each lost in their own thoughts, and then she knows. Knows that it is over.

It takes a lot of willpower and effort, but in the end she can muster the strength to get up. She straightens her clothing, banishing all thought from her mind. Sirius looks at her like she's a stranger and for a horrifying second she doesn't remember who she really is. Then it's over with the blink of an eye and she looks right back at him, but he doesn't react. It's the final straw. She leaves without turning back.

She stops only, when she's in her room - at the far end of the house. Shivering, she paces her room. She feels cold and lonely. She was never good at dealing with rejections. Sinking down onto the floor she hugs herself and winces, when her arms brush the still sensitive wounds. She looks out of the window and remembers the conversation she eavesdropped on. She wouldn't have, hadn't it been for one name only...

A bird flies by and she wonders what it'll take to convince her father to take her with him the next time he will see Lord Voldemort again...


End file.
